Serpens Arcana
by Eagle Mask of Rage
Summary: When Irina was forced to immigrate with her family to England, the thing she was least looking forward to was going to a new school where everyone knew each other, and she didn't know anyone. But to her surprise, she finds a few (reluctant) friends, a castle full of secrets, and mysterious attacks that are targeting the school. No pairings yet, story is better than the summary!
1. Platform Nine and Three Quarters

Welcome to Serpens Arcana. This is a multi-chapter fic featuring the adventures of Irina (OC), Scorpius Malfoy, Rose Weasley, and Albus Potter. Hopefully, the story will be better than my summary.

I won't be putting in any more author's notes, however I will sometimes be answering questions on my profile, so look on there once in a while.

Please review, whether it's concrit or praise, I appreciate it, and it often motivates me to write. Thank you.

**Disclaimer: I own the plot and any original characters, but the Harry Potter world belongs to Rowling.  
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Chapter 1: Platform Nine and Three Quarters  
Published: 2/14/2013  
**Irina**

I blinked, my eyes watering at the steam billowing in the air, mixing with the early September fog. The platform was crowded with other students and their parents, but all of the faces were strange and unfamiliar. I clutched at Mama's waist and buried my face in her arm, so that I could breathe something other than the disgusting black smoke from the train. The Hogwarts Express, the witch had called it.

"Stop clutching," Mama said in Russian, gently prying me from around her. "You're going to be fine, Irushka. Look around at the platform! You've never been in London before, have you? Isn't this so exciting?"

"No," I replied stubbornly, hiding my face in her coat sleeve again. My voice came out muffled. "It's weird, and I want to go home. Where's Papa?"

"Irina, you know he couldn't come see us off because he had an urgent business meeting," my sister's voice said from beside me. She had to shout to be heard over the hooting of the owls, meowing of cats, and shouting of other witches and wizards.

"I don't care!" I finally pulled away from Mama and glared at her. "He should have come to see us! Doesn't he care that we're going to a whole new school? Isn't he worried, or _something?_" My voice cracked at the last word, and I blinked the tears out of my eyes.

To my relief, Mama didn't seem to notice. "Irushka, he told you last night, he's terribly sorry that he couldn't come. But he's in New York right now, meeting with the American Minister of Magic, and he really can't skip this meeting, it could be a turning point for his business." She stroked my face gently with a warm hand. "But he promised he'd write to you tomorrow morning, and asked you to owl him back as soon as you got his letter. You too, Mira," she added, addressing her last words to my sister.

"Of course, Mama!" Mira piped. "Thanks for taking us here, since Papa couldn't come. I'm glad you didn't have to leave us with that McGonagall lady, she was a little intimidating."

Mama sighed. "I know. But she seemed nice enough, and if you have any trouble, she asked you to go to her, or your Head of House."

"What's a Head of House?" I asked immediately. "You didn't tell me anything about that!"

"Never mind, I'm sure someone will explain at Hogwarts," Mama said swiftly. "But -"

A loud whistle sounded from somewhere up the platform, and there was a sudden flurry of movement all around us. I jumped at the sudden noise and hugged Mama again, afraid of getting jostled and shoved around by the crowd. Through the confusion, I spotted a boy standing a few dozen paces away, with several other people who must be his family. He looked straight into my eyes - his were a startling emerald green - and smiled a little, before looking away at an older man who must be his father. I immediately felt a prickle of jealousy; it looked like his whole family was there, while I only had my mother.

"Oh, dear, I think that's the whistle for getting on the train!" Mama exclaimed. "Look, I've already asked one of the conductors to stow your luggage, so you'll be fine. If you need anything, I'm sure you can just ask at the front of the train, but just in case, I packed some stuff for you -" she pried my arms away again and bent down to pick up two leopardskin bags, one black and gold (Mira's), one silver and maroon (mine). "Mira, I gave you some money and three books, and I want you to stay with Irina and buy both of you girls some lunch, alright? Irina, I have a book for you, and I also packed that snake game you love so much -"

"Snakes and Dragons," I corrected her immediately, taking my bag from her.

"Yes, that - so you should be fine. Try to make some new friends, girls, okay? Mira, I know you're going to be in third year, so it'll be a little harder for you, but you're a very nice girl and I'm sure they'll all love you. And even if some of them don't, at least you're ahead by magic, right? So you shouldn't have much trouble."

"Okay, Mama," Mira responded, tugging at the hem of her bright yellow Muggle shirt. It was the only sign of nervousness I could see from her; she was usually very calm and composed, but quiet. Her dark red hair was in a neat braid that fell down to the middle of her back, and her green eyes were lined with very thin lines of eyeliner, a Muggle invention that she loved. Mira liked Muggle stuff a lot, especially their clothes; she also wore jeans and sandals. Me? I'd already changed into my black school robes.

"You'll be fine, won't you? Good. Just behave yourselves, study hard, and owl us at least once a week!" Mama gave each of us a quick hug. Her brown hair was coming out of her ponytail, which usually happened when she was stressed. "Have fun at Hogwarts!"

"Thanks, Mama," I said, swallowing hard past the lump that had formed in my throat. This was it, then. I was leaving behind my family, and pretty much everything I had ever known, to go to a new wizarding school.

"Come on, Irina," Mira called. She was already a few steps away from me. I gave Mama one last fleeting look, then hurried to my sister, as we both boarded the Hogwarts Express.


	2. Friends and Enemies

Chapter 2: Friends and Enemies  
Published: 2/20/2013  
**Rose**

I leaned out of the compartment window, waving wildly to Dad, Mum, Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny, Lily, and Hugo. There were others, of course, but I couldn't see them from here. Al was yelling something to Uncle Harry from next to me, but I couldn't hear him over the whistling of the pistons and the noise of the train wheels.

"G'bye, Mum! Bye, Dad! Bye, Hugo! See you at Christmas!" I screamed. I didn't think they heard me; Dad was just smiling, and Hugo was crying on his sleeve, probably wailing something along the lines of "But why can't I go this year? Rosie can go! I'm almost as old as her, it's not fair! I wanna go to Hogwarts too!" etc. That was one thing I wouldn't miss about my crazy family.

The train rounded a bend, and my last glimpse of the Weasleys was my Mum, with tears in her eyes. My own eyes were a little moist now: I would miss our long discussions about books and the best way to plant starflowers. (I keep telling her that they were supposed to be planted facing north, because that's what the packaging said, but Mum insists that they're supposed to be to the south, because that's what Professor Sprout had taught her. I gave up.)

"Rose!" Al was shouting in my ear.

I winced and leaned away from him, withdrawing my head from the open window. "What do you _want, _Al?"

"Let's go find a quieter compartment. Fred, Louis, and James are 'claiming' this one for their 'friends' - like they have any," Al snorted, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the door. Sure enough, the noise level was rapidly going up as Fred II, James, and Louis started to get out bags and bags of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes stuff that they'd managed to sneak into their trunks, courtesy of Uncle George. As Al and I exited the compartment, I had to squeeze past some blondie who was heading straight for Louis with a determined expression. I sighed, remembering the stories that Auntie Fleur told us about her veela charm. It looked like Louis, who at 14 years of age was supposedly getting more 'mature', was starting to attract females. Bleh.

Al and I headed down the corridor, him still holding my wrist. I glanced curiously into each compartment door, wondering if we'd see any other first-years. I remembered Mum begging me to at least _try _to not be overly controlling and bossy to the people I met, while Dad roared with laughter. The memory put a small smile on my face.

So far, everyone I saw seemed older. This didn't stop them from staring like five-year-olds, however, when they saw Al, who was the spitting image of his father. I knew better than to point this out to him, though; the unwanted attention made him defensive and prickly.

"How long _is_ this train, anyways?" Al asked grumpily as we entered our fourth carriage. "There's got to be an empty compartment somewhere!"

"Maybe we'll have to sit in the very back of the train," I said reasonably. "Remember, that's how Uncle Harry met Teddy's dad."

"Ugh! I hate all this attention! Haven't they all seen Dad before? What do they have to stare at _me _for?" Al exclaimed, as one person had the audacity to actually stick their head out of their compartment to watch us go by. "Will you people get a_ -_"

"Al, calm down," I soothed, slipping my hand into his and giving it a squeeze. "Look, I think there's an empty compartment over there. Let's go have a look."

Still grumbling to himself, Al opened the glass door a _tad _harder than was strictly necessary. It slid open with a bang, but thankfully didn't break. I cautiously peeked over his shoulder and immediately stiffened: there were two girls sitting right next to the window. One was smiling gently at us; she looked to be maybe in first or second year. The other was glaring pointedly at Al. _She _certainly looked young enough to be in first year.

"Get out," snapped the girl who was glaring at Al. "This compartment's full."

"Excuse me," I interrupted, shoving Al aside before he could make a reply. "Why are you being so rude?"

"Da, Irina, ty dol - I mean, you have to be nicer to strangers," the other girl corrected herself hastily. I looked at her curiously, wondering what language she had been speaking.

"It doesn't look full to me," Al pointed out, sitting down on the seat opposite the hostile girl. "And we won't bother you, honest." He didn't look at all fazed by the girl's anger; on the contrary, he seemed to have relaxed, now that he was away from the gawping stares of the rest of the train.

The nicer girl smiled at Al and said, "Hello, I am Mira of - that is, Mira Sokolov. I'll be entering third year."

"I'm Al." my cousin replied, extending his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

They shook hands, and then looked at the other girl, who was' presumably Mira's sister.

"I'm Irina, of the House of Sokolov," she grumbled after a short pause. "Pleased... I guess... to meet you, Al."

"House of Sokolov?" I repeated sharply. "You're a pureblood, then?" That explained a lot about her attitude; she was clearly every bit as snobbish, high-bearing, and vain as Dad had told me purebloods would be.

"So what if I am?" Irina shot back. "Let me guess: you're one of those self-righteous halfbloods who automatically assume that 'pureblood' means conceited brat?"

I blinked. That hadn't occurred to me, but... "You're certainly acting the part!"

"Irina! Stop being rude!" Mira hissed, as Irina opened her mouth to reply. Turning to me, she added, "Yes, we are purebloods. I hope my antisocial sister hasn't offended you with her comments. Russian purebloods are raised to be more open towards Muggles, and we have renounced blood purity a long time ago. However, some still believe us to be snotty aristocrats..." She sighed. "I suppose it's only to be expected."

That hit a little closer to home than I'd expected, but I tried not to show it. "I'm not offended, and I'm not trying to judge you... my name's Rose Weasely, by the way. Daughter of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger," I added with pride. All right, I was showing off, just a _little_, but couldn't help it with Irina being a stuck-up brat, could I?

"Who are they?" Irina asked suspiciously. "Let me guess: famous actor on Muggle drugs and his air-headed wife?"

"What?!" Al and I exclaimed at the same time: Al had shot up from his seat, and my face turned red with fury.

"How dare you talk about my mother that way?! She's the smartest person you'll ever meet, you - you -!"

"Just shut up. Now." Al hissed. "And don't ever talk about my Aunt and Uncle like that again."

Irina actually shrank back a little, under our combined glares. Even Mira was looking at her with mixed shock and anger. "Irina! Did you not listen to _anything _in Magical Theory school? They had a whole month of lectures about recent wizarding history, and they spent _hours _talking about the British war with Lord Voldemort, and how Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger single-handedly saved them all! Who knows, if they hadn't stopped them, we could still be lingering in the bystander effect while the Dark Lord takes over the world! In the name of Baba Yaga, will you ever _pay attention?"_

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, all right? Just - don't mind me," Irina muttered, turning around to face the window. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't." Mira sighed and looked at me again. "Please, sit. You can ignore her. And is it true - are you _really _the daughter of Mr. Weasley and Miss Gran- I mean, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Well, yeah," I said, cautiously taking a seat next to Al. "I don't lie." Okay, that was a lie. But in my defense, the last time I lied was when Dad almost caught me reading his Forbidden Magazines... which was really, truly, _honestly_ necessary or else I would've been punished for the rest of my life. Besides, it's not like there was anything _forbidden _about them. If there was, he wouldn't have left them lying on the highest shelf, because he knew perfectly well that I could levitate at that age (I was nine).

"And you?" Mira turned to Al, an expression of dawning wonder on her delicate face. "You're Albus Potter? Son of Harry Potter?"

"Er, yeah," Al muttered, shifting uncomfortably. "But I try to avoid too much attention..."

"Oh, sorry," Mira said instantaneously. "I will not 'fangirl' - that is the term, right? - over you."

"How old are you?" I asked curiously. "Did you live somewhere else? Your speech is really formal."

"I'm thirteen. Irina and I lived in Russia for our entire lives, mostly in Siberia, but sometimes in our lodgings in Moscow. But I attended the Baise he Academy - the White River Academy, that is - in China, for the last three years. I learned to speak English and Mandarin there. I am sorry if my speech is a little strange, I am - I'm - working on refining it so that it sounds more natural," she finished shyly.

I shook my head. "That's not something you should be sorry for. Speaking three languages is amazing. I bet Mum would love to meet you."

Irina snorted quietly, but didn't turn around.

"What was that?" I demanded. "Did you say something? Sorry, my ears were filtering out the sound of your horrible voice. Oh, wait, you don't know what a filter is. My sincerest condolences." My voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Actually, I _do _know what a filter is," Irina replied coldly. "And what I said is none of your business. As a matter of fact, I can't even stand the sight of you and your famous cousin, so I'm just going to go find a compartment where I can sit in peace." She stood up, but to my surprise, Al grabbed her arm.

"What did I ever do to you?" he asked her. His tone was calm and reasonable, but I could hear the faintest trace of hurt. "Look, I'm sorry for yelling at you, but you really did deserve it -"

"Leave her be," Mira interrupted quietly. "She's being impossible, and acting like a five year old. She'll come around. Irina, just... remember what Mum told you about making friends."

"I don't need friends," Irina snapped furiously, ripping her arm from Al's grasp. She picked up a silver and maroon satchel from the floor and headed towards the compartment door. "See you at the feast, Mira."

I opened my mouth to say something along the lines of "Good riddance", but at that moment, the door opened. A tall, blonde boy walked in, flanked by a shorter boy with messy black hair and a girl with beautiful waist-length golden hair and piercing blue eyes. I immediately recognised the tall boy, from Platform 9 3/4: it was Scorpius Malfoy, the one Dad had told me to beat in every test.

"Who're you?" Irina asked bluntly.

"Scorpius Malfoy," the blonde sneered, barely glancing in her direction. His gaze was fixed on Al, who stared back, looking confused.

"I'm Bobby Greengrass," the short boy piped up. "And this is -"

"Selestia of the House of Evelyn," the girl finished, sizing Irina up loftily. "Now, if you'll excuse us... we wanted to talk to Albus Potter."

This didn't sound good. I didn't like Irina much (at all), but these three were very rude, just dismissing her like that. I stood up and cleared my throat, so that everyone turned to look at me.

"I'm Rose Weasley," I proclaimed loudly. "This is my cousin, Albus Potter, as you obviously know already, and that nice girl in the corner is Mira. We don't appreciate being ignored, thank you very much."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "You're a Weasley, aren't you? Riffraff... and you," he looked at Mira, who blushed furiously but held his gaze, "you look pretty well-bred to me, even if you're not of a House. Why are you associating with these people? I mean, obviously, Potter is someone you want on your side, but why _her?" _He carelessly waved his hand, indicating Irina and me.

Al stood up, his expression unusually fierce. "Excuse _me, _Scorpius bloody Malfoy, but I don't appreciate how you treat my _friends. _And for your information, people stopped caring about blood purity 20 years ago. Why don't you grow up and shove those stupid beliefs... er... somewhere it'll hurt?" he finished lamely.

Selestia gave a haughty laugh. "Your friends, you say? You might want to ditch them before it's too late, and you're stuck with the... socially downgraded."

"Actually," Irina interrupted in a tone that could liquify nitrogen, "Mira is the firstborn of the House of Sokolov, and I am second-born. So watch your mouth, you foul -" she trailed off with a string of unintelligible Russian.

Malfoy's eyes widened slightly, but he only sniffed. "Purebloods, then, whatever. Probably blood traitors -"

"Our father works in the top level of the Russian Ministry of Magic," Mira interjected. I smirked a little, watching Selestia, Greengrass, and Malfoy grow more and more apprehensive: clearly, they were feeling sorry about provoking people with high connections. But Malfoy recovered quickly.

"All right, fine. I take it you're not going to ditch the losers?" he sneered at Al. My cousin shook his head firmly.

"Fine. C'mon, Selestia, Bobby." With a jerk of his head, Malfoy indicated that the two should follow him out of the compartment. As he left, I stuck out a foot, nearly tripping him; unfortunately, he stepped over it just in time. But Irina gave him an extra hard shove to make up for it, and we shared a look of grim satisfaction as he tripped awkwardly out of the doorway.

"On second thought," Irina said, slamming the door behind the trio, "I think I'll stay here for now. Not that I like you two all of a sudden, but you're better company than those lot."

I rolled my eyes, but sat back down next to Al, right across from Mira. Irina was still a brat, in my opinion, but at least we had a few things in common: we didn't take insults lightly, and we both hated Malfoy's guts. If she just got over her unexplained grudge against Al and me, we could even become friends... not that I wanted to.


	3. Into Deep Waters

Chapter 3: Into Deep Waters  
Published: 3/22/2013  
**Irina**

My first glimpse of Hogwarts came in the less-than-pleasant company of that stuck-up Rose and annoyingly naive Al. I didn't like them at all from the start: Al was moping about all the attention he gets from his father, without even appreciating that his father is always _there for him, _while Rose was just plain annoying. I noted them down as people to stay away from, and the took second and third place, after that arrogant idiot, Scorpius Malfoy.

Nevertheless, their presence couldn't take away the beauty of the castle. The numerous windows sparkled and twinkled with light from the rooms inside, and the dark ones reflected starlight. Magnificent turrets and lofty buttresses soared over the main body of the castle. (Contrary to Mira's opinion, I _was_ paying attention at Mama's lectures, at least on architecture, because it actually sounded half-important if I was ever to buy my own house.)

"Everyone duck, we're entering the tunnel!" Professor Grubbly-Plank's voice called. She had introduced herself as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, and she was the one taking all us first years on our 'traditional' journey across the lake. As I lowered my head, random strands of ivy brushing against my tied-back hair, I thought about my first impression of her. She seemed strict, but fair, and I suspected that her classes would be informative and interesting.

I lowered my head, flinching as the strands of ivy hanging over the tunnel brushed my hair uncomfortably. Next to me, Mira covered her face with her hands: she was scared of tunnels ever since an incident involving a series of underground caves. I wanted to put my arms around her to comfort her, but refrained because of Al and Rose sitting across from us in the boat.

They were conversing quietly, too quietly for me to hear; I only heard the occasional hiss of an "s" or a "t". It reminded me a bit of a man I saw one time in a circus, demonstrating his ability to speak Parseltongue. It was a very rare ability, and I thought it was fascinating. What would it be like to speak with a snake, and not have anyone else understand you? The possibilities were endless; it would become a familiar, a loyal companion, and we'd be able to converse with each other; it would even become an excellent spy, especially if it could slip unseen through corners...

"Irina," Mira said quietly, jerking me out of my thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course," I answered in Russian, forgetting that we had company. "I was actually going to ask you if you were fine. With the tunnel, I mean. I know you're scared of them..."

"I am not scared! I just think they are creepy, and there could be nasty creatures like snakes and worms and bats all over the place and we would not be able to see them!" Mira said indignantly, still in English. I gave her a puzzled look, before remembering that there were two British people sitting in the boat with us.

My glance in their direction showed that both were staring at us with slack-jawed expressions.

"What?" I asked sharply. "I was speaking Russian. Haven't you ever heard someone speak a different language before?"

"Not really, no," Rose said, exchanging a look with Al. "I think it's pretty cool, actually."

"Good for you." I shrugged and turned back to Mira. "So -"

"Irina," she interrupted in a quiet hiss. "I need to talk to you once we get to school."

"But -"

"Ponyatno?" Russian for "Understand?" I nodded mutely, slightly startled by the unusually fierce expression on Mira's face.

The rest of the trip passed in silence, broken only by the splashing of the lake water against the boat. We docked in a small, shallow cave, which was illuminated by a strange glow that seemed to seep out of the walls. I stood next to Mira, as far away from Rose and Al as possible without seeming _too _rude. I didn't like them, but Mama's lessons on politeness still came back to me.

"Alright, first years, please follow me. We will be walking through a short tunnel and entering the castle through the front doors, and then I will lead you into a small room so that I can give you a short speech before the Sorting begins." Professor Grubbly-Plank's voice rang sharply, echoing off the stone walls. With a rustle of robes and a lot of clacking of heels, the group of thirty or forty first years followed the grey-haired professor through the tunnel. It was indeed short, and before I knew it, we were climbing a set of rough stone steps. There was no one else in sight, but as I stepped into the Entrance Hall (was that what it was called?), I heard a babble of voices coming from a closed set of doors to the right. That must be where the rest of the school was, I realised.

"This way!" Obediently, our group followed the Professor into what was probably an unused classroom. The desks were pushed against the wall on the far side of the room, and the chairs were all missing. I kept bumping shoulders with Mira because of how close I stuck to her, and I suspected it annoyed her but she didn't protest. She always did have a lot more patience.

With a swish of her dignified black robes, Professor Grubbly-Plank turned to face us. "Ahem. In a few moments, you will be entering the Great Hall and the Sorting Ceremony will begin. You will be sorted into each of four Houses: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, or Gryffindor. Each has its own noble history, and has produced exemplary witches and wizards. Your House will be something like your family; you will sleep in your House dormitory, spend your free time in its common room, and have lessons with the other members. While you are at Hogwarts, triumphs will earn your House points, while rule-breaking and bad behaviour will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points gets the House Cup." She paused, as if trying to remember something. "Ah, yes. I hope you will all be a valuable addition to the House you're sorted in, and I suggest you tidy yourself up before Professor Hiltan comes to collect you. That will be all."

There was a tense silence as the first years tried to process what Professor Grubbly-Plank was saying. I frowned, my thoughts spinning all over the place. Four Houses? House points? House Cup? Why had no one told me this before? Surely Mama or Papa knew what Hogwarts was like when they moved here and chose to send Mira and me to this strange, echoing castle... couldn't they have at least warned us what this would be like? But as it was, I was diving headfirst into deep waters, and I hated it.

Lost in my own thoughts, I didn't realise Mira was saying my name until I felt a tug on my sleeve. "What?" I asked, shaking my head to clear it.

"Irina, your behaviour on the train was _horrid. _I am very ashamed of you, and I'm sure Mama will have something to say to you, too, once I write to her!" Her voice, like before, was a fierce whisper.

"Why are you so mad at me about it? I don't like them!" I said, shrinking back slightly under her gaze.

"I don not care! Where are your manners? Why are you being such a snotty brat? You are giving the House of Sokolov a terrible reputation, and shaming both of us, not just yourself. I expect you to apologise to Rose and Al at once."

I felt a prickle of shame. It hadn't occurred to me that I was shaming Mira and my name, not just myself. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

Mira's glare softened a little - she never could stay angry for long. "It's not me you should be apologising to, it's them," she said.

With a long sigh, I stood on my toes and looked around for Rose's dark red hair. I spotted her mane behind a clump of boys, next to Al's untidy hair. Well, better now that later - who knew if we'd get Sorted into the same House? That cheered me up slightly, as I realised I might not ever have to see them again! Not too often, anyways.

That happy thought propelled me around the forming clumps of students and to Al and Rose. They were conversing quietly, but stopped as soon as they saw me approaching. I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling embarrassed and nervous, but continued on. _I'm only doing this for Mira, I'm only doing this for Mira, _I chanted to myself.

"Yes?" Rose said in an icy tone as I stopped a metre in front of her. "Can I help you?"

I looked away from her angry face and caught Al's eye instead. He wasn't openly hostile, but his brilliant green eyes were wary.

"Um..." I took a deep breath and tried to swallow my pride. "I just wanted to apologize for my attitude on the train and I'll be nicer to you in the future and it's okay if you don't forgive me but I'd appreciate it a lot." Whew, that was harder than it should have been...

Rose continued to regard me coldly, but it was Al who broke the silence with a friendly smile. "It's alright, Irina," he said. "How about we start over? Hi, my name is Al Potter." He extended his hand.

I gave him a strange look, but decided to play along. This was being nice, wasn't it? "Hi, I'm Irina of the House - I mean, Irina Sokolov. Pleased... to meet you."

We shook hands. His palm was oddly cold and clammy. I resisted the urge to wipe my own hand and turned to Rose. "Hi, I'm Irina Sokolov. And you are?"

She narrowed her eyes at me, but finally relented after Al gave her a nudge. "Rose Weasley." I shook her hand too, but let go as quickly as possible. Somehow I could tell that even though we'd made a sort of truce, we would never become best friends; we just rubbed each other the wrong way too much.

I glanced back to where Mira was standing. She was grinning encouragingly and giving me a thumbs up; I gave her a small smile, just as someone threw the door open. Everyone turned to look at the person, flinching at the loud noise. It was a small woman with a round face flushed from running and wild curly hair.

"Hi, first years! I'm Professor Hiltan, your Transfiguration teacher. Quick, get into a straight line and follow me, we're running late for the Soring!"

All around me, students were exchanging puzzled glances, no doubt because of the flustered professor. I immediately made a dash for Mira, not wanting to be separated from her. Somehow, through all the pushing and shoving of people trying to be in the back of the line, I got pushed into being first. I tried to duck behind Mira, but she pushed me back to my original spot, a stern expression on her face. "Don't be scared!" she said.

Before I could protest, Professor Hiltan was already ushering us through the Entrance Hall and up the steps to the still-closed doors of the Great Hall. With a mighty shove, she threw open the doors, revealing the magnificent dining hall to my astonished eyes.


	4. The Sorting

Chapter 4: The Sorting  
Published: 4/25/2013  
**Al**

"Potter, Albus!"

Immediately, the Great Hall fell dead-silent. I swallowed nervously and stepped out of line, giving Rose a reassuring smile. As I passed the other first years, I accidentally caught Irina's eye. She raised an eyebrow, and I looked away hurriedly.

Professor Hiltan handed me the Sorting Hat as I took my seat on the famous three-legged stool. I jammed the Hat on my head, trying not to let it slide past my ears. Unfortunately, the old, wrinkled leather slipped easily down to cover my eyes, so that all I saw was darkness, with only a sliver of light where my nose was supporting the brim.

_Well, well, well, look at what we have here,_ the Hat said musingly. _Albus Severus Potter, you're an interesting case, an interesting case indeed._

Why's that? I asked silently, remembering what Dad had said about the Hat reading his thoughts. Aren't you... aren't you going to put me in Gryffindor?

_You have the seeds of a Gryffindor, _the Hat admitted, _but there's something... I was considering placing you into Hufflepuff._

Hufflepuff?! I could scarcely believe it. How on earth am I a Hufflepuff?

_You're friendly, and a hard worker, and you're very loyal to your family - you could have great friends, _the Hat said. _Besides, I can see that you don't want to be in Gryffindor, not really. You might think so on the surface, but inside, you really want to break free of your father, your heritage, become your own person... and Hufflepuff would be perfect. You'd make many friends, you'd be happy, and -_

No, no, no! Please, not Hufflepuff! I'll be the first Potter to be Sorted into Slytherin! And I don't want to break free of Dad, I love him! I protested frantically. Please, please, please, just put me into Gryffindor, I'll be happier there, with my family...

The Hat continued speaking softly into my ear, completely disregarding his panicked thoughts. _But then again, I see something else in here... cunning, ambition, perhaps? A desire to prove yourself... perhaps that thirst to break free of your family could be turned to another house, less friendly than those loyal Hufflepuffs..._

With a sinking feeling, I realised what the Hat was talking about. "Anything but Slytherin," I whispered. "I'll even go to Hufflepuff, but not Slytherin, _not Slytherin..."_

The Hat seemed to twitch on his head. _I'm afraid I've made my choice, _it said, almost apologetically. _Yes, __I can see it clearly - better be _"SLYTHERIN!"

The last word was shouted into the Great Hall. I hesitantly pulled the Hat off my head, trying to ignore my disappointment and shock, and looked around - everyone was staring at me with a mixture of surprise, amazement, and even horror. Instead of the applause that all the other students had received, the deafening silence almost made my ears ache. _Why couldn't anyone say something? Were they all just as shocked as me?_

I did a quick scan of the Hall with his eyes, noting everyone's identical expressions of disbelief. The Gryffindor table looked the most horrified of all; James, especially, was gaping like a fish. Al also picked out Fred II and Dominique, Fred in 3rd year and Dominique in 5th. Over at the Ravenclaw, Lucy looked faintly surprised, and Victoire was staring at me with an odd expression. She looked slightly disappointed, but also kind of... proud? Her Head Girl badge winked at me, and I looked away before she did something embarrassing like wave.

My gaze fell on the teachers' table. Professor Grubbly-Plank, Hagrid's replacement when he retired, merely looked uninterested. Professor McGonagall looked appalled (he shrank back in shame). A few of the other, unknown professors looked surprised or even annoyed - a tan, dark-eyed man was almost sneering. I squirmed a little on my seat, looking away quickly from his unfriendly gaze.

"You can go to your table," Professor Hiltan said eventually. I hurriedly placed the Hat on the stool and scampered past the line of first years, to the edge of the platform, so that I could descend the steps to the Slytherin table, trying to look only at the ground, focussing on just not tripping - that would be the worst embarrassment of all. Besides, it saved me from Rose's accusing, hurtful look. Or at least, I thought that's what she'd look like. Best not to think of that now.

My walk of shame only ended when I reached the Slytherin table. Around a hundred faces, each mirroring some variation of shock - ranging from a sneer to a pitiful look - stared back. Instinctively, I gravitated towards the other Firsties, until I realised who was sitting there.

Of course - Scorpius Malfoy, with Selestia Evelyn and Bobby Greengrass. The only other Slytherin to be sorted was Thurston Nott, and he didn't look very inviting either.

Well, there was nothing to be done... I wasn't going to sit with some third years, was I? I took a deep breath and cautiously lowered myself onto the seat next to Bobby, who only gave me a curious look, but didn't object. I sighed with relief.

As soon as my bum touched the seat, however, whispers broke out across the Hall. Naturally, Professor Hiltan - how did that woman become a teacher, anyway? She was so scatter-brained - hadn't called a single name since I was sorted into Slytherin (wince). Everyone was craning their heads to get a better look at the Potter freak, the first to ever be sorted into the House of Snakes... I ducked his head, cheeks flaming from embarrassment. _Why couldn't they just get on with it already?_

A gentle _tink, tink _sound made me look up at the staff table again, thankfully along with the rest of the school. Professor McGonagall had tapped her wineglass with a golden teaspoon, calling for attention.

"Ahem," she said. "I'm sure that Mr. Potter's Sorting is a fascinating topic for discussion, but could we please continue with the ceremony?"

Professor Hiltan blushed beet-red and hastily snatched up her scroll again. "Quan, Rosemary!"

A petite Asian girl with pigtails flounced over to the Sorting Hat, not seeming worried in the least. As soon as it touched her head, the Hat cried, "RAVENCLAW!"

Rosemary smiled with delight, not seeming bothered by the half-hearted applause; most of the audience had returned to whispering or staring at Al. I clapped politely as she took her seat with a few other girls.

"What are you doing?" someone hissed at me. I looked around and saw a boy with spiky grey hair and piercing blue eyes glaring at me, his lip curled in a sneer. He looked to be a second or third year.

"Clapping," I answered, feeling puzzled. "Why, is something wrong with that?"

"Slytherins don't clap for other Houses, dimwit!" the girl sitting next to the boy hissed.

I blinked and nodded, turning away before they could see the tears starting to well up in my eyes. _Don't cry, _I thought furiously. _They're not worth it. It's okay, I'll get over it quickly, not all Slytherins are probably that bad._

I swallowed hard and surreptitiously wiped my eyes, then turned to face Professor Hiltan again. No matter how optimistic I tried to be, Slytherin was starting to look more and more horrible.


	5. The Sorting, Part II

Chapter 5: The Sorting Part II  
Published: 5/4/2013  
**Irina**

I watched with interest as Al went over to sit at the Slytherin table. Well, _he'd_ certainly landed in a pit of snakes, hadn't he? To be honest, after listening to the Sorting Hat's song and comparing it quickly to everyone I knew (including Al), I hadn't expected him to go anywhere except Hufflepuff. Well, maybe Gryffindor, if you took his family into account. Which I only did because of some of Rose's comments during the train ride.

Not that I was listening to that annoying fire-head, anyway.

The summons for "Quan, Rosemary!" made me look around again. I noted the bouncy pig-tailed girl with disinterest, and was slightly surprised when she went to Ravenclaw - I'd marked her down for Hufflepuff too. I guess I needed to stop judging people by appearances.

I was distracted from "Rookwood, Trixie" when I felt someone's hand grab and squeeze my own. I almost jumped out of my skin, and scowled when I saw it was only Mira. "I'm not five years old anymore!" I hissed at her, trying to jerk my hand free. However, she didn't even look around; her eyes were squeezed shut, and a faint blush coloured her cheeks. With a start, I realised that she was nervous.

Wait - my sister, always so calm and friendly, was actually _nervous?_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

I barely noticed how little applause the Rookwood girl was receiving. "Mira," I whispered in Russian, "calm down. Everything's going to be fine."

"But what if we get Sorted into different Houses?" she asked softly, her voice trembling. "Mama told me to take care of you. How can I do that if not only am I two years above you, but I'm also in a different House? We'll almost never see each other!"

Before I could reply, Professor Hiltan called, "Sokolov, Irina!"

I gently pulled my hand out of Mira's grasp, and this time, she let me go. With baited breath, I stepped forward and accepted the hat from Hiltan, placing it on my head with one swift movement as I sat on the stool.

_A Sokolov, _a little voice whispered in my head. I almost fell off the stool in shock, but immediately realised that it must be the Hat, talking to me. _I haven't seen one of your blood in over three hundred years... yes... well, we know where you'll be headed, don't we?_

What?

_Just like Sasha, of long ago... _"SLYTHERIN!"

I slipped the Hat off my head, glad to be rid of it, but at the same time not really registering what I was doing. Sasha? Who was Sasha? I knew at least five Sashas, so how was I supposed to recognise this one? And when had our family ever lived in England? Mama had never mentioned that in one of her history lessons, and it seemed pretty important.

Lost in my thoughts, I only remembered my sister when Professor Hiltan called her name - "Sokolov, Mira!"

A titter went up from the students as they realised that Mira and I were sisters. Of course, most of them probably thought we were fraternal twins or something, but it was probably still pretty unusual. Just wait until they realised she was a third year.

I quickly made my way over to the Slytherin table, anxious to sit down quickly so that I could watch her be Sorted.

Unfortunately, once I reached the table, I was faced with a dilemma. Obviously, I didn't want to sit with any of the higher years, as they looked pretty annoyed with how long the Sorting was dragging on. The only first years I saw, though, were Scorpius and his gang - and I didn't want to mix with _them. _So where did I -?

"Pssst! Irina! Over here!"

I glanced around again, and spotted Al, hidden behind Bobby Greengrass' giant head. I sighed a little with relief and slid down on the seat next to him, trying not to show how pleased I was at having at least one ally in this House. Was it just me, or did they seem a little leery? Rose had told me on the train about Slytherin's evil reputation, and I assumed it was just bias, but maybe...

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

I almost jumped out of my seat, having completely forgotten that my sister was getting Sorted. But Mira wasn't heading over to the Slytherin table to sit with me... oh no... she was going to sit with the _Hufflepuffs. _Who were, according to the gossip I'd heard a little earlier, the complete opposite of my new House.

But why? Why wasn't she with me? Surely she couldn't leave me all alone...? Mama had told her to protect me! Not that I needed protection, but it was a scary new school, after all, and it would be nice to have my sister near me. How could Mira help me when she was in a completely different House?

I groaned and put my head in my hands.

"Irina? Are you alright?"

Al's voice was cautious, mixed with some hope. I guess he thought I was going to bite him, or something. I hadn't exactly been pleasant earlier.

"No, I'm fine," I said, lifting my head up again just when the Hat cried "RAVENCLAW!"

I tried to applaud for Rose Weasley (unenthusiastically), but Al reached for my hands to stop me. His fingers seemed to be shaking a little, and when I looked at his face, I noticed that his eyes were slightly red. Had he been _crying?_

"Don't clap," he warned me quietly. "I already got yelled at by some older kid for it. Apparently Slytherins aren't allowed to clap for the other Houses. It's really stupid."

I frowned. "Isn't that just inviting the others to see us as evil and stuck-up?"

He shrugged, lowering his eyes. "I guess they don't care."

I felt an unexpected surge of pity, but I damped it down. So he wasn't where he wanted to be! Big deal! It happened to people all the time. I looked over at Mira, but she wasn't looking at me: she was sitting with a couple of girls at the Hufflepuff table and conversing with them quietly. With every passing moment, I got more and more annoyed at the fact that she seemed to have forgotten all about me.

The Sorting finished with "Zabini, Lucian!" being placed into Slytherin. He slid into the seat across from me just as the talk started up again at all the tables. I looked around a little uncertainly, wondering what was going to happen next. I suppose it was time for us to eat, but the gleaming gold plates were empty. Was there going to be a speech first? At my old school for Magic Theory (which I'd only gotten to attend for a year), there had been one by one of the teachers, but I wasn't sure if they did things the same way here in Britain.

"Ahem."

A gentle tinkling sound made the entire Great Hall quiet instantly. I looked up at the staff table, wondering who had enough power to make hundreds of students fall silent, and saw an old lady putting down her teaspoon and rising stiffly.

"Greetings, everyone, I am Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. I welcome all of you, both new and old, to yet another exciting year at Hogwarts. I have a few announcements about Quidditch trials and there have been a few staff changes this year, but I'll wait until everyone has eaten their no doubt delectable feasts. Enjoy!"

She sat down again, and I had a moment to be confused before I realised that food had appeared on all of the bowls and platters in the middle of the table. My mouth fell open of its own accord as I gawked at the piles of food, from mashed potatoes to fried chicken wings to lemon drops (huh?). I looked around the table and saw everyone heaping food onto their plates. For a second, I felt irritated at the complete lack of manners, but my stomach rumbled loudly, reminding me that my last meal had been several hours ago on the train.

I shrugged and followed everyone else's lead. It wasn't my fault if I was just following the crowd, though I'd expected the "pureblood House" to be a little more refined. Who cares? I was hungry.

The feast proved to be more than delicious. I discovered that I hadn't enjoyed food this much in years, even though at home, we had house-elves who could cook perfectly well. Maybe it was just the novelty and magic of a new school, or just the adrenaline finally wearing off from my Sorting ordeal, but I felt great; better than I had all day, in fact. I was in a pretty cool House, even though its members weren't exactly pleasant, a House of cleverness, cunning, and ambition. According to the Hat's song, I'd find "friends who'd help me to any end", or something. Wait, maybe that was Hufflepuff. Oh well.

I looked at my neighbor, who wasn't exactly digging in as ravenously as I had. Al was moodily picking at his blueberry pie, arranging it into a lightning shape.

"What are you doing?" I asked him curiously.

"Nothing," he said quickly, obliterating the design. "I was just... thinking."

I pushed away my plate, too full to show interest in food anymore. "Thinking about what?"

He hesitated. "My family, I guess. They're... well, I don't think they'd be very pleased that I got into Slytherin. I'm the first Potter to do that in... well, ever."

"Well, your family isn't too big, is it?" I said reasonably. "It can't be more than your parents and maybe a couple of siblings -"

"Are you kidding me?" Al interrupted me, his eyes wide. "My family is _enormous! _I've got about a dozen cousins, five uncles, and three siblings! And they're all in Gryffindor! Well," he amended, "Victoire, Molly, Lucy, and Rose are in Ravenclaw, but still - all the rest are in Gryffindor! And Gryffindor and Slytherin are enemies!"

"Are they all older than you?"

He shook his head. "No, Lily - she's my sister - Hugo, and Roxanne are a year younger. But my brother, James -" he started ticking off on his fingers - "and my cousin Fred are in third year, Louis is in fourth year, Dominique and Lucy are in fifth, and Victoire's in seventh. Teddy already graduated, and he's sort of my adopted cousin, but he was in Gryffindor, too. And all our parents were in Gryffindor, 'cause they're Weasleys. And my dad! He's Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and_ he _was in Gryffindor too! What's everyone going to think? Oh, dad will be so ashamed." He moaned and ran his hands through his untidy black hair. "I can't believe it."

I sat silently for a few moments, contemplating everything he'd told me. He really did have a pretty extended family, and I could easily imagine how angry they might be because he broke tradition. I could still remember the furious row Mira had with Papa when she'd told him she was interested in studying Muggles. Of course, he'd given in eventually, like he always did for her -

I cut off the thought before it could be finished. My own, pureblooded family wasn't something I wanted to think about right now.

A gentle tinkling once again cut through all the noise of the Great Hall. Immediately, the chattering students quieted and turned to face the Headmistress, so I did the same.

"Well, I'm sure you all enjoyed that wonderful feast," said Professor McGonagall. "Our cooks have really outdone themselves this year. Now, for a few announcements. First, Quidditch trials will be held on the third Saturday of September, and anyone interested in trying out should contact their Quidditch captains; the names will be posted on the notice boards of each House common room. Secondly, I must remind everyone that no one is permitted into the Forbidden Forest, and any products from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes are, as always, banned. Thirdly, this year, for the first time, there will be a chess club, which will meet every Friday evening; any student interested in joining should look at their notice boards for announcements..."

I found myself yawning and glancing longingly at the doors. I wondered when we'd be taken to our dorms, as I was feeling very sleepy all of a sudden. Maybe there were Sleeping Droughts mixed into the desserts? It could be an interesting topic of research...

"Lastly, since I know you're all tired from your train journey, I just want to announce some staffing changes. Unfortunately, over the summer our beloved Professor Flitwick has passed a way." McGonagall paused for a moment to wipe a tear off her cheek, and I noticed several students in Ravenclaw doing the same. "His replacement will be Professor Padma Patil. She is a charming young woman who will no doubt be an excellent teacher to you all."

I applauded politely as a pretty Indian woman in a shawl stood up. She smiled brightly at everyone, and I found myself smiling back for no reason at all. I quickly rearranged my face into a scowl. Her friendly demeanor suddenly seemed a lot more sinister; was she trying to lull us into a false sense of security? Years of living in Moscow had taught me that even the safest places could prove to be unexpectedly dangerous...

Or maybe I was just being ridiculous.

"...and our new Care of Magical Creatures teacher this year will be Professor Sparow, as Rubeus Hagrid has decided to retire. Lastly, there have been a few schedule changes that will be explained in more detail to everyone tomorrow morning, when course schedules will be handed out. Good night to you all."

There was a great scraping and banging as hundreds of people got up from their tables and began to head over to the enormous wooden doors, which had sprung open as soon as McGonagall had finished speaking. I stood uncertainly, unsure of where to go. Didn't someone have to lead us to our dormitories?

"First years! First years, this way, please!" a girl was calling. I turned to face her, hearing Al do the same on my other side.

The girl frowned at all of the first years who had stood up. I noticed for the first time how much shorter we were, compared to everyone else. Even the girl, who looked small for her age (around fifteen, maybe), towered head and shoulders above all of us. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she had lots of black makeup on her tanned skin.

"Hi everyone," the girl said half-heartedly. "I'm Sara Flint, and I'm one of the two fifth year prefects. I'll take you to your dormitories now, which are in the dungeons, but you've got to pay attention because it's really easy to get lost. Okay? Oh, and this idiot here is Parker Greengrass, he's the other prefect."

A tall boy with curly brown hair smirked at all of us. I tried not to look away, to show him that I wasn't scared, but I had to drop my gaze after a few seconds. Those blue eyes were unnerving.

"Alright, everyone this way!" Sara commanded, gesturing for us to follow her. Parker waved us on mockingly, and brought up the rear of the line.

It took us about fifteen minutes of traversing through dark hallways lit by eerie green torches, hearing strange echoes and squeaks coming out of nowhere. Finally, we reached a blank stone wall that seemed to be no different from a thousand other blank stretches of stone walls in the dungeons. However, Sara stepped forward, pressed her palms to the wall, and whispered, "Serpens!"

The wall melted away into empty space.

I was impressed, despite myself. It was a clever way of concealing the common room, as anyone who wasn't in Slytherin would have an extremely hard time just _finding _the passageway, let alone figuring the password, which wasn't even in English.

"Come on in," Sara called, stepping into the narrow corridor revealed through the hole. Hesitantly, the rest of the new Slytherins followed her, until it was just me, Al, and Parker still out in the hallway.

"Hurry up!" the prefect said impatiently. I exchanged glances with Al, feeling strangely nervous about stepping in. After all, it would mean we were real Slytherins (as if sitting at the table wasn't enough). But before Parker could shove me through or something, I stepped in and followed the retreating backs of the other first years.

We emerged into a rather spacious room, with curtained windows that were pulled back to reveal what seemed to be the bottom of a lake. Comfortable-looking black leather couches were arranged neatly around the room, with several steps acting as partitions, dividing the room into seven unequal parts. A blue fire burned in the fireplace across from where I was standing, and the walls were covered with silver and emerald tapestries and empty portraits. I noticed that the carpet was plush, embroidered with various pictures of green snakes and black dragons. Overall, the room was pretty majestic, and seemed to have an aura of casual wealth (just the couches probably cost a fortune). I felt immediately at home.

Two doorways yawned on either side of the fireplace. Sara gestured to the one on the left. "That's the boys' dormitories," she explained. "There's a spiral staircase, and each level is for a different year. You'll be on the third floor from the top, and that'll be your floor for the next seven years; the signs rotate, the floors don't. It's pretty simple. The same goes for the boys' dorms. They're identical, except the girls have two more bathrooms and the boys can't get in there, while girls can get into the boys' dorms." Her eyes seemed to flash in the gloom. "However, I _strongly advise _for you not to use these privileges until... later on."

I heard someone giggle. Personally, I didn't see what was so funny, or why Parker was smirking again.

Sara appeared to have finished speaking, as she turned and disappeared up the steps to the girls' dorms without another word. The students began to disperse, some of them talking between themselves or spreading out to take a closer look at the room, but most were too tired and just went straight to bed.

I moved forward, feeling my eyelids starting to droop with exhaustion. However, just before I reached the stairs, I remembered Al. He was awkwardly following me around, like a lost puppy or something.

"So, er..." I hesitated. "Good night, I guess?"

"Good night, Irina." He stares at me, his expression seeming almost wistful. I blinked, realising that I'd been staring into his brilliant green eyes for the last ten seconds. To cover up for the awkward moment, I muttered a quick "bye" and escaped into my dorm.

When I got in there, none of the other girls had arrived yet. With some pleasure, I noted that my trunk had already been carried up. Despite my exhaustion, I managed to brush my teeth and change into my pajamas before I collapsed into my incredibly soft bed and fell asleep at once.


	6. Prats and Purebloods

Chapter 6: Prats and Purebloods  
Published: 6/11/2013  
**Rose**

My first morning at Hogwarts dawned bright and early. As soon as my eyes snapped open, I felt completely awake, energized, and fresh - ready for a day of classes and learning. I was fairly sure that I'd be ahead of everyone else, even my fellow Ravenclaws, because Mum had taken it upon herself to teach me some magic theory before I came here. Preparation was the key to success, after all.

I glanced at the clock ticking on my bedside table and grinned: it was barely 7am, and I had plenty of time to eat breakfast and even try to find some of my classrooms.

I got dressed quickly and exited the first year dorms, careful not to disturb the other six girls in my room. I didn't know any of them yet, but I was pretty sure that two of them were Orphidia Blackwell and Alina Wu. They'd seemed nice at dinner last night, although I was too distracted watching Al at the Slytherin table to try and become closer to them.

These thoughts carried me all the way down the spiral stairs to the Ravenclaw common room. I smiled at the pale sunlight, just starting to leech through the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows and illuminate the dozens of bookshelves. Already, I could tell that this day was going to be brilliant.

When I got down to breakfast, barely anyone else was in the Great Hall; apparently, the kitchens had just started serving. I felt my pulse speed up with nervousness, seeing a dozen eyes lock on me when I walked through the doors. Were they judging me by my red hair, knowing I was a Weasley? What were those Gryffindor boys over there thinking? And _where was the Ravenclaw table again?_

My heart almost stopped for a moment as I frantically tried to remember which table was mine while simultaneously trying to look like I was walking with a purpose. Thankfully, the people stopped staring at me and I could scan the dining hall in peace, looking for the telltale books on the table.

Oh, thank goodness - I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted Victoire's blonde head, at the second table from the doors, sitting next to another girl. I hurried over to her, and she smiled and waved when she saw me.

"Hi, Rose! How's Hogwarts on you so far?" she greeted me warmly.

"It's pretty good," I said shyly, carefully sitting down. "Um, I'm not bothering you or anything, am I?"

Victoire blinked. "Of course not! Oh, this is my friend Arianna, by the way. Arianna, this is my cousin, Rose. She's in first year."

"It's nice to meet you, Rose," Arianna said politely. She was a dark-haired, brown-eyed girl, with freckles. I thought she looked plain next to Victoire, who was probably the most gorgeous Weasley in Hogwarts right now, but I remembered that you shouldn't judge by appearances. For all I knew, Arianna could be the smartest one in the school.

"It's nice to meet you too, Arianna."

Victoire, never one for long silences, immediately struck up a conversation with Arianna about a book they'd both read recently. I took the opportunity to look back and forth across the table, checking for any first year boys. I saw a third year reading a textbook, and a fifth year poring over a Daily Prophet, but other than that, the table was empty of people.

A loud rumble alerted me that my stomach was feeling empty. I eyed the dishes critically and selected some kind of thin pancake, that reminded me a bit of the crepes that Aunt Fleur loved to make. It turned out to be excellent, and I tucked in, not forgetting to pour a healthy dose of plum jam over everything. (I'd inherited a sweet tooth from my Dad.)

"Hey, Rose," someone greeted me a few minutes later.

I looked up from my bagel and spotted Al, who took a seat across from me. "Hey, Al. Why are you here?"

He shrugged. "I'd rather sit here than at the Slytherin table."

I glanced over at his House's table. There was no one there, and I told him so.

"That's why I'm sitting here with you," he explained, as if it were obvious. "That way, when the first Slytherins come in, they'll think I'm a Ravenclaw and let me sit here, at least this morning."

"Al, I'm pretty sure the whole school knows you're a Slytherin."

"But it doesn't hurt to -"

"Hey, Potter!" an annoying voice drawled from right behind me.

I spun around, and found myself staring at the chest of one Scorpius Malfoy. I scowled and looked up into his face, trying not to blush at his closeness.

"Shove off, Malfoy," I snapped.

He only smirked down at me. "With pleasure, Weasley, but I need to collect our wayward celebrity. It seems he's forgotten where the Slytherin table is."

"You can't make me sit with your lot, Malfoy!" Al snapped. I turned my gaze to see his normally kind face twisting with anger. "I don't see anyone else around to drag me away!"

I looked at Malfoy, waiting for a response. He only raised a blonde eyebrow. "I wasn't planning on dragging you anywhere. I was only making a friendly suggestion to _move _before some older, meaner Slytherins do it for you. They don't have any qualms about touching blood traitor filth, anyway."

"Excuse me?"

Victoire had joined the conversation. I twisted my neck around so fast that I almost cricked it, but it was worth it to see her rising from her seat, her face dangerously calm. Arianna was barely concealing a smirk; clearly, she knew what was about to happen.

Malfoy actually took a couple steps back. "Er - I mean - sorry, do I know you?" he stammered, his face turning faintly pink for some reason.

"I'm Victoire Weasley," she replied in an icy tone, "and I don't appreciate you calling my family a bunch of blood traitors. Al is my _cousin, _you see, and I'd think that Slytherin purebloods, of all people, would know what it means to be loyal to your own kin."

He blinked, his face reverting to a blank mask. "I'm sorry if I offended you with my language, but I was only repeating what... others have said in my presence. I'll be sure not to do that again." Malfoy flicked his eyes to Al. "I'll be expecting you to join us soon, Al. Can't have people thinking Slytherins are _disloyal, _can we?" With a last condescending sneer at me, he left.

"Prat!" I yelled after him, a bit louder than I'd intended to. He didn't turn around, but several Hufflepuffs did. I blushed and quickly went back to my food. _Of course I'd manage to embarrass myself first thing in the morning. It's all that idiot Malfoy's fault!_

"I'm sorry," Al said lowly, breaking the awkward silence. "I didn't mean to make him come over here. I can leave if you -"

"Nonsense, Al," Victoire interrupted calmly. She'd taken her seat again next to Arianna. "That Malfoy's just being a prick. He'll get over it."

I shook my head, but didn't comment, preferring to finish breakfast. I still needed time to find my first class.

Professor Patil, the pretty new Head of House for Ravenclaw, entered the Great Hall just as I was slurping up the last of my maple syrup. She immediately hurried over to me, seeing that I was done and obviously needed a schedule to know where I was supposed to go next.

"Good morning, Rose," she said sweetly, smiling at me.

I smiled back shyly. "Good morning, Professor Patil."

"You'll be needing your course schedule, won't you?" she said, taking out a stack of blank pieces of parchment from her handbag. "Your parents have probably told you all about how the classes work, but there have been a few changes this year that I need to tell you about, okay?"

I nodded. She tapped a piece of parchment with her wand, and words immediately started appearing in neat rows, detailing every single one of my classes. I noted that Herbology was first, at nine o'clock under Monday. Professor Sprout would be my teacher.

"Alright, Rose. So the first change from your parents' time is History of Magic. Up until five years ago, it was taught by a ghost named Professor Binns, who led a very outdated and not exactly... useful... series of lectures. However, when Muran Buttermere succeeded Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister of Magic, he hired a team of exorcists to send Professor Binns to the next world using a recently discovered spell. In his place, the Ministry hired Professor Li, who is a very good teacher, of course. This year, she has managed to schedule a field trip for all the first and third years to a magical aquarium; for the first years, the trip will be mostly focused on the historical aspect, while for the third years, it'll be about studying the magical creatures there."

I nodded again, feeling a prickle of excitement. A magical aquarium? It sounded pretty exciting, even if the first years would only be doing boring historical research.

"Next, all first and second years will be invited to take a course called 'Magical Theory of the Twenty-first Century', which is taught by a wizard who lectures at the Oxford University of Magic, an excellent higher-level institution for education. Students aren't required to take the course, but I strongly suggest it, as it will deepen your understanding of magic and the workings of our natural world. There will be a fair amount of homework, but I personally think that if you know how to organise yourself properly, it's very much worth it. It runs from October to March, with a winter break, of course."

"It sounds interesting," I said politely, beginning to feel a little impatient with Professor Patil's speech. It was only half an hour until Herbology started, and I had no clue how to even leave the castle except through the great doors (which were no doubt locked).

"It really is, Rose. Lastly, I just wanted to mention that if there's anything you need help with - anything at all, whether it's school, social life, anything - my office door is always open. Do you understand? I want you to remember this very carefully, Rose. You should never feel helpless, or like there's nothing you can do to get out of a situation. No matter what it is, I can help you, alright?"

"Of course, Professor." I felt a little puzzled, but -

"Oh, you're wondering why, naturally? Well, you are a Ravenclaw, I can see it in your expression. I'm sorry, Rose, but you're a little too young to know. When you're a little older, though, I'll be sure to explain everything to you. Alright?"

I felt a prickle of indignation at her calling me 'too young' to know something. I wasn't five! But I swallowed my protests and gave her a polite nod. "Yes, ma'am."

Professor Patil gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Rose, I didn't mean to make you mad. But you do understand that if you're ever feeling lonely, there's always someone who'll help you, right? Promise me you understand."

"I promise," I said as calmly as possible. "Um, can I go to Herbology now?"

"Of course. Here's your schedule." The professor handed me the parchment and left, giving me one last reassuring smile.


End file.
